Dying to live
by Kermitfries
Summary: Depending on how this goes over, this may to turn into a one shot chapter fic type thing where every chapter's a new one shot . But for now it's just a one shot. Jeremy/Tyler. Jeremy is careless, and Tyler feels obligated to protect him.


**Title**: Dying to Live

**Rating**: Mature, for language, sexual situations and drug use. (but no actual sex.)**Words**: 1995 not counting this header**Warning**: Underage drug use/drinking. BoyxBoy, obviously. Sexual images between men and an underage boy. I wrote this with the intention of completing a prompt on my prompt table. The kink/prompt for this fic was Intoxication. It was intended to be sex but…here we are. There are really no spoilers, other than Jeremy and Tyler's previous relationship as hateful rivals and Vikki's correlation with all of that fun stuff. This is my first TVD fic and there was no beta, so all mistakes are mine.**Summary**: Jeremy gets high, and Tyler is left looking after him.

EDIT: I don't know why it was one complete paragraph when I uploaded it last time, but that wasn't intentional.

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Jeremy hated Tyler. Drinking only made that hatred stronger. Jeremy had never shown any intention of changing opinion. Except now. Now, Jeremy had Tyler pinned to a wall. Now, Jeremy's fingers refused to leave an inch of Tyler untouched.

The fluorescent light overhead was bright but Jeremy's pupils were dilated enough to almost erase all trace of color. The whites of his eyes were checkered red with tiny veins. Beads of sweat lined Jeremy's face, breaking free sporadically to follow the contours of his skin down his face, where it collected at his chin before rapidly sliding down the curve of his neck. His cheeks were flushed red but his smile sparkled with glimpses of white teeth.

Jeremy's lips, already kiss swollen, pressed insistently against the crook of Tyler's neck. In his ear, he could hear every, very audible, sound Tyler made.

It was clear, even to them, who exactly was dominant. Jeremy was so very eager, his needy mewls vibrating against the skin of Tyler's neck. His teeth and tongue and lips mashed desperately, marring Tyler's skin with dark, painful bruises. And Tyler radiated a cool, untouchable, calm. He was not being taken advantage of, he was letting Jeremy do what he wanted. That was all.

They were in the bathroom, secluded yet still mentally caught up in the party that still thumped intrusively against the door.

Jeremy's hands hastily penetrated the folds of Tyler's shirt and roughly touched his chest. His fingers splayed out across Tyler's ribs and moved rhythmically to the music. Jeremy was dancing and yet he hardly moved. He was humming happily into Tyler's neck, and Tyler was content with letting the boy do whatever he wanted.

Abruptly the bathroom door snapped open and the noise of the party hit Tyler like a blow. There were hands, belonging to men Tyler only vaguely recognized, grabbing Jeremy and jerking him away from Tyler. Jeremy was quickly spun around and lips hastily covered his open, searching mouth. The change of partner's didn't seem to deter Jeremy. He was just as desperate and needy as before. Tyler watched Jeremy's mouth move quickly; he watched this much older man fuck Jeremy's mouth with his tongue. And Jeremy just lapped it up, his throat visibly working to swallow another man's spit. How could Tyler have ever seen the fifteen year old as a naïve virgin before? He looked completely at ease.

But there was a second man, younger than the first, in the bathroom now. Tyler hadn't noticed his entrance. The second man's greedy mouth latched onto Jeremy's neck. Tyler felt dirty, watching the younger boy caught in between two older men. _Loving it._ Tyler wasn't drunk enough to join in and he prayed to god he never would be that intoxicated. He knew what was about to happen. Jeremy would be fucked. By two strangers.

The younger of the two men was already roughly unbuttoning Jeremy's jeans when Tyler surged into motion again. There was something about the way these men acted; their hands and mouths moving, biting, scratching whatever they wanted to, like they were in control and they owned Jeremy. Tyler didn't like it. He shoved the younger man away and dragged Jeremy from the bathroom. The door snapped shut behind him but the music swallowed the angry slam.

Jeremy trailed Tyler obediently, like a child, his wrist clutched in Tyler's hand so tightly that it hurt. And when Tyler practically threw Jeremy into the passenger seat of his car, Jeremy did nothing more than buckle his seat belt. The boy seemed caught up in his own world, his lips quirked into that annoying half present but still stuck somewhere else smile. There was nothing behind that smile, and it only irritated Tyler more. Jeremy didn't find anything funny, he wasn't happy. He was merely smiling because it took too much effort and concentration not to.

"You _feel _pissed," Jeremy finally said, several minutes into the silent drive. "What's wrong?" There was concern within that single question that Jeremy had no right to feel. They weren't friends, they never were. And Tyler knew they never would be; not if Jeremy had to be stoned out of his mind to feel this unwarranted concern. It was still odd, seeing Jeremy smile that cute, dopey smile Tyler hadn't even known he'd had. Usually the boy's face was twisted into a scowl, his lips distorted with a hateful sneer. A sneer Tyler didn't quite believe he deserved. They had always played a game, though, and Jeremy just had the unfortunate luck of losing every time.

"Shut up," he snapped, his knuckles white and aching on the steering wheel. "You were going to let them fuck you," he added. And then he said nothing else, because that was what was so fucking wrong. Jeremy would have let those men - undeserving men - use him. Like how Tyler used him. No, not for sex; they'd never done that. But for amusement. Tyler used him for amusement and that's all the men had wanted from Jeremy too. Entertainment. Something to do. It was wrong.

Jeremy half shrugged, half shifted in his seat. "So?" He asked in an airy tone that didn't sound upset or defensive. Acknowledging what the fuck was wrong just wasn't doing anything for Tyler. You can't punch someone that isn't defending themselves.

"So?" Tyler repeated. His tone was everything Jeremy's hadn't been. It was full, angry and loud within the small quiet car. It held a punch and Jeremy should've flinched. But that would have taken realization and the boy hadn't even realized he was in trouble yet. "You can't just go around fucking strangers with me in the fucking room!"

Eyes glided away from the windshield to fix unsteadily on Tyler's glare. But there was no weight behind his eyes and it irritated Tyler. There was a frown set within that shifty gaze that couldn't quite twist Jeremy's lips yet. He was still smiling. "You're mad at me?"

Tyler saw red for the briefest of moments. It was like talking to a wall! He gripped the steering wheel that much tighter, in an attempt to restrain himself from punching Jeremy. But what the hell was the purpose for his anger? Vikki wasn't here. She wasn't at the party. She wasn't in the bathroom when they were making out. Vikki had been the cause of their entire relationship. All that hatred and anger, and yet she wasn't here, and he felt angrier than he'd ever felt before. Because those men were kissing Jeremy; touching him and biting him…

"Where are we going?" Jeremy's weightless voice cut into Tyler's angry glare. Tyler ignored him and he felt Jeremy's hand on his thigh. Suddenly the lust he'd felt in the bathroom crushed down on him, and that single touch went straight to his groin. That was why he was pissed. Those men wanted to fuck Jeremy - but he wanted to too. He was no better than those men.

"Home," he answered stiffly, reaching down to shove Jeremy's hand away. He wished he could upset the boy, but Jeremy's lop sided smile remained in place. "You can't go back to your aunt's like that." Of course they both knew Jeremy very well could. His aunt and sister knew all about Jeremy's drug habit. But they'd thought he was getting better. And he was. Thank God. Tyler doubted Jeremy was this loose when he was sober.

_Why did he care?_

Jeremy's smile brightened and his hand returned to Tyler's thigh. He was practically climbing out of his seat to get closer to Tyler, but the seat belt kept him restrained. "You were jealous." There was a moment of clarity, and Jeremy's accusation sounded so calm, so insightful. "You want me all to yourself, huh?" Jeremy's smile had suddenly gained weight; it was knowing. The fucking bastard was smiling knowingly at him.

Tyler scowled at Jeremy before returning his eyes to the road. "No. We are not _doing it_. I wasn't jealous. I was looking out for you. They could've had all kinds of diseases, you idiot. You should be thankful instead of acting like a dick. Quit fucking smiling at - don't fucking touch me!"

Jeremy's fingers, light just like everything else about him, began tracing imaginary patterns into Tyler's thigh. And they felt good, but Tyler was so fucking pissed. He didn't know what to do - fuck Jeremy senseless or kick his ass. He wanted to do both, quite possibly at the same time. "'lax," Jeremy sighed. "'s fine."

Tyler's fingers tightened on the steering wheel before he irritably swatted Jeremy's hand away. If they weren't going to fuck, Tyler didn't want to be touched.

Once more, trailing like an obedient dog, Jeremy calmly allowed Tyler to lead him inside of the Lockwood manor and straight past the living room to the main staircase. It was already after midnight and Tyler prayed that his parents were asleep. If they caught a boy in Tyler's bed…

Once in his room, he looked his door and turned back to Jeremy, who remained standing there - compliant. And smiling like an idiot. The smile wasn't knowing anymore. He wasn't smiling at the promise of sex or long conversations. Tyler shook his head and began to undress Jeremy. When the younger boy reached for him, he swatted his hands away again. Touching led to sex, and Tyler was not going to lower himself to those men. This worked out perfectly, because he wasn't gay and having sex with other guys seemed like an awfully gay thing to do. Tyler helped Jeremy clumsily pull on a pair of his sweats. They were loose on Jeremy and they hung perfectly on his hips. Tyler's eyes shifted from Jeremy's hips to his --

He abruptly turned away, snatched a t-shirt from his dresser drawer and threw it at Jeremy like a hand grenade. The stupid child looked like a little boy, as Tyler tucked him into bed. Until Jeremy reached up, curled his fingers around the back of Tyler's neck and practically forced him into a kiss. Tyler didn't struggle, of course and when the kiss ended they were both panting.

He told Jeremy to go to sleep, and Jeremy obeyed. He curled on his side, burrowed beneath the blanket, and closed his eyes. Tyler didn't join him. No…joining always led to sex. Everything led to sex. It felt like Tyler was creeping across a minefield, and the slightest misstep would lead to…sex! Which was as bad as a mine, if you didn't want it.

Tyler padded across the room, retrieved his note book and sank down into a chair. He curled in on himself and began to draw. And just like that, all of the tension that had him wound so tightly disappeared. His hand moved across the paper with weightless ease and practiced grace.

The picture he drew caught Jeremy in a state of blissful sleep. The smile had finally slipped away, setting his lips into a pensive line. Only when he slept, Tyler had realized, did Jeremy seem normal. The bliss of his high would disappear but the anger of his sobriety failed to set in. When he slept - Jeremy was perfect. So only on paper, could Tyler capture that perfect essence that had always escaped him.

This was the problem, only outside of his world could Jeremy even begin to heal. Being awake was dying, and getting better could never come fast enough. Even as Jeremy healed and kicked his stupid, dangerous habit, he was dying and one day he'd explode. Into a billion pieces. Even if he survived, he'd remain broken. Dead. Tyler just hoped he'd still be there, to huddle over Jeremy and meticulously pick up every single piece and find a way to glue them all back together again and hope that he could come close to recreating the person Jeremy used to be.


End file.
